


A Pleasant Day Off

by Twolittlesparrows



Series: Time off with the boys [1]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bickering, Fluff, Getting her boys to spend some time together, M/M, Making Out, Mild Smut, Sybil is there pulling the strings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twolittlesparrows/pseuds/Twolittlesparrows
Summary: On a forced day off, Sam Vimes is visited by Vetinari and the pair spend a lovely afternoon together that wasn't at all masterminded by Sybil. No. Not at all.---Technically this was his day off. But Sam couldn't help feel like it was more of a house arrest. He was under strict instructions not to leave the grounds. It was drilled into him before she left, that if Sybil caught the slightest whiff of his leaving, he would be in for a world of disappointed looks and extremely pointed sighs. He couldn't bear the thought.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Series: Time off with the boys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150637
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	A Pleasant Day Off

There was something about dried cranberries that really rubbed Sam Vimes the wrong way. Why take a perfectly average berry, and make it a smaller, sadder version of itself? The ones in the bowl in front of him were sour.

Peeling an orange, Vimes leaned back in his chair, and rubbed sleep from his eyes with his sleeve. It was a surprisingly quiet day. He had woken at around mid-morning to Sybil kissing him awake. After a delightful forty minutes of enjoying his large, soft wife, (mostly between those glorious thighs of hers), he had been pushed out of bed and went to shave.

Technically this was his day off. But Sam couldn't help feel like it was more of a house arrest. He was under strict instructions not to leave the grounds. It was drilled into him before she left, that if Sybil caught the slightest whiff of his leaving, he would be in for a world of disappointed looks and extremely pointed sighs. He couldn't bear the thought.

Wiping orange juice from his chin, Sam yawned, crossing his legs at the ankles. The sun had made its way through the murk of the city. It was, he thought, a good day to have a smoke in the garden.

Nipping through the kitchens, Vimes nabbed himself a freshly baked bread roll that he slathered in butter and jam, grinning to himself at the simple pleasure.

The years of food scarcity he (and pretty much everyone else he knew) had endured never really left him, and instead meant that he still relished the simple joys of a good piece of warm bread. You could always trust warm bread. He was glad he'd kept that part of himself. The one that knew to take what he could get and hold on. It came from a harder life. Now in theory he could snap his fingers and have anything he wanted, yet Vimes clung to the memories of what it was like. He needed to remember. He owed it to his past self. And to those who it was their every day.

Vimes found a bench at the base of a large tree. He sat with his back against the trunk, legs stretched out, arms folded and chin resting on his chest. In the warm he almost nodded off. Vimes fell into that half waking doze, where he could still hear everything around him, but was pleasantly fuzzy.

To his left a twig very pointedly snapped. He huffed, not moving, 'So, what brings you here, then?'

There was a soft laugh, and the light swish of robes. Vimes felt someone sit beside him. 'Perhaps,' said the visitor. 'I have come to visit the Duke on his day off, or to bring him some documents worthy of his attention.'

Sam cracked an eye open, 'You got something?'

Havelock Vetinari smirked, 'Goodness me, no. I wouldn't dare go against Lady Sybil like that.'

Vimes huffed, closing his eye and shifting into an even more slouched position, 'So, a social visit then.'

'Is that so odd?'

'Depends on who you ask, I suppose.'

Their shoulders brushed, 'As you're the only one here, commander, it's obvious I'm asking you.'

Sam was quiet for a moment. He sat up, fishing his cigar case and lighter from his pockets. 'I haven't seen you for a while,' he said finally. He leaned forward, arms braced on his knees and sent a puff of smoke up into the breeze. 'Outside of work, that is.'

Birds chirped overhead. There was a soft sigh beside him, followed by the light tapping of a single fingernail on a cane. 'And that is...regrettable.'

Vimes chuckled, shaking his head. He stood, hands on his hips and leaned back, joints cracking. 'Come on,' he said, gently nudging Havelock's foot with his own. 'I'll pop the kettle on -' he paused to scratch his chin, 'Actually, I think Sybil got some of those little cakes you're so fond of stashed away somewhere.'

'Capital.'

The men sat in the drawing room, a pot of tea steaming between them. Sam puffed on his cigar; arm folded beneath his head. Fingertips brushed his lips. He cocked a brow, letting Havelock steal the cigar from him. His tall companion stretched his legs out, and slouched, sending his own cloud of smoke into the room.

One hand resting on his stomach, Havelock turned, and caught Sam’s eye. Vimes gave a half smile, turning his attention to the long fingers that held his cigar. Vetinari’s sleeve had slipped down, exposing his pale wrist. Sam swallowed, reaching over to lightly touch the back of his hand, pulling it towards himself.

‘Really, Vimes, if you wanted your cigar back, you could simply have said so -’ Sam pressed his lips to the underside of that wrist and Havelock stopped speaking. He took the cigar from him, stubbing it out in his empty teacup, not once releasing his hold of Vetinari’s hand. He shifted closer, their knees bumping. 

'You always are a surprise, Sam,' Havelock whispered. Vimes looked up to catch his eye and smiled at the pleasing pinkness that rose on his cheeks. Vetinari moved. Settling on Sam's lap, an arm snaked around his shoulders, he pressed himself close, forehead resting against Sam's. 

He wouldn't say it out loud, but Sam had missed him. Missed this. He let one hand trail down Havelock's spine, the other resting on his hip. He kissed his neck, eliciting a stifled moan from him. Thin fingers bunched the fabric on his shoulders. Sam tightened his arm around the small of Havelock's back, his other hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Teeth grazed his thumb, and Sam grunted in approval. 

'How's your leg?' Vimes asked, nipping playfully at Vetinari's earlobe. 

'...Not great,' Came the quiet reply. 

Sam sighed, resting his chin on his shoulder. He clapped Havelock on the back, 'Rightio then, come on.' With as much care as he could muster, Sam scooped him into his arms, carrying him out of the room. 

Havelock frowned, 'Oh, honestly, do you really think this is necessary?' 

'Yup!' 

Vimes carried him easily upstairs, ignoring his huffs and grumbles. He nudged open the bedroom door, kicking it shut behind them. Carefully, He placed Havelock on the bed and sat beside him, working on the laces of his shoes. He eased them off, tossing them to the floor. 

'Right, what's something that'll help? Sybil's got some ointments for...Well, everything, in the bathroom -' 

'Sam-' 

'I think there's a hot water bottle in there too, actually -' 

'Shut up and get over here.' 

Vimes, for once, did as he was told. He lay down beside Havelock, chin resting on folded arms. Vetinari rolled onto his side, palm on Sam's cheek. His touch was warm, and Vimes found himself turning his head to press a kiss to his palm. 

'I didn't come here for you to fuss,' Havelock said. 'I came here to see you -' 

'Yeah, I gathered that-' 

'I missed you.' 

Brows notched, Vimes leaned in, kissing him softly. 'Yeah,' He muttered against his lips. 'I uh...Yeah,' he sighed, looking into Vetinari's eyes. His companion smiled softly and stroked his cheek before carefully pulling Vimes on top of himself. The commander chuckled, and while he was mindful of his bad leg, he didn't hesitate to grab Havelock's other thigh. 

Vetinari dragged his nails up under Sam's shirt, making him shiver. Sam shifted to straddle his hips, keeping his weight on his knees. He pulled his shirt off, and Vetinari ran his calculating fingers over the planes of his chest. 

'That's new,' He tutted, finger tips tracing a fresh scar along Sam's ribs. 

Vimes just shrugged his shoulder. He fumbled with the tiny buttons on Havelock's top, frowning. The bastard simply smiled, watching Sam struggle and was no bloody help at all. 

Sam huffed, 'Seriously, what is with all this?' 

'Do you have a problem with my fashion choices?' Vetinari chuckled, running a hand through Sam's hair. 

'I do when you're bloody done up tighter than a ducks ars-' 

A hand clamped over his mouth, 'I'm going to stop you right there, Sir Samuel. None of that, now.' 

Sam smirked under his hand, and nipped at his skin. Vetinari rolled his eyes, nimbly undoing his own buttons in a matter of seconds. Vimes watched as his layers were removed. He leaned in, kissing along Havelock's now exposed chest. 

Hands combed through his hair and soon the pair were lost in one another. They both shed the rest of their clothing. Strong, sword calloused hands roamed while delicate, long fingers pressed and pulled. Moans were muffled by hard kisses, open mouthed and urging. 

By the time they eventually eased themselves apart, Sam's back was covered with scratches and Havelock's neck and shoulders were red with bites. Vimes panted, his entire body fizzing as he gently guided his lover to lay among the plethora of pillows. He pulled the heavy quilt over them both, pulling Havelock close. He settled against him, chin on his shoulder, Havelock's hand in his hair. 

Vimes yawned, eyes half closed. He chuckled softly to himself, nuzzling into both Havelock and the pillows. He sunk into the bedding with a small smile. 

A kiss was pressed to the top of his head. 'What are you giggling about?' Vetinari asked. 

Sam snorted, blinking up at him, 'So, two questions. One: When did you and Sybil concoct this little plan? And two: Has it gone how you hoped?' 

'...Last week. And the plan isn't over yet,' Vetinari chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Sam, chin on top of his head. 'I lost track of time while you were doing that thing with your tongue, but, at some point, Sybil is joining us.' 

'...But she went shopping.' 

'Yes, and I believe it was to Mr. Scrope's... Establishment.' 

'...Oh...' 

Havelock chuckled, kissing the top of his head again, 'I hear he has a new line of leather pieces that are quite delicate, yet durable.' 

Sam sunk further under the blankets; his forehead now pressed against Havelock's chest. 'Well then...' He muttered, cheeks burning red at the thought of his wife, and leather, and whatever interesting little trinkets and toys she'd no doubt bring home to experiment with. 

He smiled, hugging Havelock, eyes closing. This really was going to be a damn fine day off.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work here, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!


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